don't look back, again."
A night of bad dreams, me thinking more so, "cup half empty", the long-term prospects of the family questionable. Three bad dreams, spread across the night, each so disturbing they caused me to awaken. I saw those that were lost, saw them as I remember them best, not necessarily as the broken figures they had became before death.
6/28 and all that.
Some concerns just overwhelm.
"Evil man make me kill you,
though we're families apart."
The rest is minutia; there is only waiting.
I mean, truly, 9/11 guilt not withstanding, Covid antipathy, thinking with the future of the family in question, the list of people I care about growing shorter, I think, from my own perspective, a lot more of the faceless masses could just wink out of existence.
Truly.
In the perfect sense, one keeps himself centered, and I can't claim that kind of peace at the moment. One has some level concern for others, and I can't claim that either. I have in that sense, in the face of the universe, failed at Stoicism for the moment, at least.
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